


You're safe with me

by faeliality



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Insomnia, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24418789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeliality/pseuds/faeliality
Summary: Octane has severe insomnia brought on by PTSD. Mirage helps.
Relationships: Mirage | Elliott Witt/Octane | Octavio Silva
Comments: 22
Kudos: 57





	1. I don't sleep well

It happened kind of as a shock to Elliot. Octavio Silva, of all people, daredevil, speed demon, fearless as anyone he’d ever met. Or Tavi- as the other legends had taken to calling him, had been paired with Mirage in the odd round of duos that happened occasionally, mid-season, when things were rather slow. Seven pairs remained in the arena, the two of them located at the edge of the circle in a quiet wooded area. A few broken down cabins dotted the landscape on occasion. It was in one of these that Mirage heard a loud _clink_ followed by the telltale ticking of a grenade. Before Octane had a chance to react he was tackled under what was once the porch of a beautiful hunting cabin, which had since succumbed to the elements and left enough space for the two of them to dive underneath and avoid the oncoming explosion. He vaguely heard Mirage’s voice shouting “grenade!” as they hit the ground. 

“Hey, looks like I was faster than you for once!” the trickster quipped, scanning the area through the settling dust for whoever the hell chucked a grenade at them. An unusual silence followed, since Octane was normally rather chatty. And since Mirage had made a joke about his _speed_ nonetheless, he definitely expected some kind of retort. 

“Hey are you alri- alr- uh you’re not hurt are you?” Octane looked at him with wild eyes, breathing a little faster and shaking a little more than normal- which considering all the stim he was on it was actually quite noticeable. 

“Uh yeah amigo I…” he trailed off and pressed his head in his hands, suddenly shaking a lot more than before. Elliot reached out and put a hand on his arm, which was a little awkward given their crouched position underneath the porch, but the contact caused Octane to suddenly jerk upwards, smacking his head on the flooring above them. 

“Woah! God, sorry. Are you oka- um what’s wrong?” Octane looked directly at him but it didn’t feel like he was looking _at_ him and more like looking right _through_ him at something unseen, and his breathing became wild as his eyes welled up, and suddenly he was clawing the mask off his face- panting so hard you’d think he’d just run two marathons back to back, which, he _had_ done before, and it still wasn’t like this. 

“I- I can’t breathe,” he whispered. A strangled noise arose from the back of his throat and he collapsed even further into the ground, shaking so hard Elliot was pretty sure they were having a seizure. And then it dawned on him. Octavio Silva was having a _panic attack._ Him of all people, who seemingly wasn’t afraid of anything, was reduced to a shaking crying mess on the ground. _The grenade!_ He realized. _He must have PTSD from the incident with his legs_. And sure he might’ve done that to himself, and sure the public- and even the other legends thought he didn’t care, maybe even finding the incident amusing, but now he knew that he was _not_ okay and it was very far from amusing.   
Elliot gripped Octane’s face in his hands and _wow he never noticed how attractive octane was without his mask on_ but that could wait till later because right now he was stuck under a porch with a man having a panic attack and he had _absolutely no idea_ what do do and dammit he still didn’t know where that grenade came from in the first place. He thought back to what his mom told him to do in situations where you didn’t know what to do- just impulsively act on the first thing that comes to mind. Which, yeah, this had gotten him into a lot of trouble in the past, and was overall poor advice, but if they didn’t move soon they were going to get killed, either by the ring or by whoever was closeby enough to throw that damned grenade. So with Octane’s panic stricken face still being held in his hands, he leaned forward, and kissed him. 

_Oh my god what are you doing you stupid brain this is the only thing you could think of?!_ But Octane made a startled noise as he pulled away, and his eyes seemed to refocus and actually look at Elliot. Just as soon as it began, it was over. His breathing slowed- or slowed to what was normal for Octane, and he rubbed the back of his head, having not noticed he banged it on the roof above them moments earlier. 

“Sorry amigo,” he grinned, pulling his mask back on and shifting to a position where the both of them could crawl out from underneath the porch. 

“Sometimes when I hear grenades I get, uh, these episodes. I’m not sure, I think maybe the stim affects it too.” 

_Sure._ Elliot thought. _Or maybe you’re just more human than you want us to believe and it’s totally okay that you suffer from panic attacks._ He only smiled in response. 

“Um. Did you kiss me?” 

“Oh, y-yeah I didn’t know what else to do. I apolo- apal- I’m sorry.” 

“No need man, it worked, didn’t it?” He grinned again but Elliot didn’t see it underneath his mask. The two of them had finally stood up, and even though they had only been under the house maybe 3 minutes, it felt nice being out in the open again. Octane added, quieter and much more serious- 

“You won’t tell anybody right?” he seemed almost sheepish in asking. 

“Hey of course not. Uh- I get ‘em too, sometimes... Besides there’s no cameras this far out.” Octane flashed him a thumbs up, seemingly back to his usual energetic self. 

“Well amigo, let's go win this thing!” 

  
They, of course, did not win that thing. But hey, top three! Bloodhound, who had lost their partner Lifeline early on in the game, managed the solo victory, no real surprise there. They had taken both Mirage and Octane out with two headshots from a Kraber, sitting god knows where 300 meters away. _How did they have such good aim?_ Mirage made a mental note to ask once they stopped being so terrified of the other legend. As luck would have it, the last duo remaining in the arena was also a man down, so it came down to just Caustic and Bloodhound, who took an easy victory over the scientist. Caustic was a much larger man, albeit too overconfident, underestimating the hunter to the point of defeat. 

Mirage went through his usual rounds of smiling for the cameras, flashing his dazzling good looks and entertaining the crowds. He was nothing if not a good entertainer. The other legends followed reluctantly behind, not as keen for the cameras as the trickster was. And Bloodhound, the victor, totally disappeared after the game, as per usual. Crowds _really_ weren’t their thing. He forgot the events that transpired with Octane for the most part, finally settling down for the night in their ‘floor’ of the Apex living quarters. 

  
The next few days of games were rained out, giving Mirage a chance to hangout at his bar. He liked working there, even though he didn’t really need the money. It was fun to chat with people and, of course, he loved the attention. He spotted Octane there a few times, and his heart fluttered every time they met eyes. _No your heart is not fluttering… it was just a stupid kiss to snap him out of a panic attack_. Yet still, he found himself thinking of the daredevil more often than he ought to, and he found himself smiling extra wide when he knew Octane was watching. And then one night, he was up at 2am for god knows why- _probably because you’ve spent your whole adult life making bad decisions and you have no semblance of a normal sleeping schedule_ \- he heard a soft knock at his door. He almost didn’t open the door because who the hell was bothering him at 2am, but curiosity got the better of him. He was surprised to see Octavio standing before him, holding a small pink bunny toy, looking strung out and exhausted. He reminded Elliot of a small kid who was woken up by a nightmare.

“Hey, amigo..” he said softly. “I didn’t wake you up did I?” 

“Uh, n-no I was awake. Come in?” He stepped aside from the door, and realized the light could be seen from the hallway and Octane definitely knew he was awake. Elliot motioned for the other to sit wherever he felt comfortable, and he ended up on a large plush couch facing an even larger TV. The two of them sat in silence for a moment. Octane stared down at the pink bunny in his hands, seemingly forgetting where he was for a moment.   
“Can’t sleep?” Elliot offered. Octane stared at him blankly. Though the bags under his eyes were evident, he couldn’t deny how attractive Tavi was without all his usual headgear on. His eyes were a striking green, he wasn’t sure if that was natural or if the stim altered them, but nonetheless they were the most gorgeous colored eyes Elliot had seen on another person. He wasn’t sure what Octane’s natural hair color was, just because he dyed it so often, but at the moment it was a soft sandy brown color that fell just past his eyes. 

“It’s pretty bad, huh?” Mirage asked softly. He nodded slowly in response, still staring down at his bunny. Everything this man did was fast, and daring, and borderline crazy- _okay absolutely insane crazy_ \- so it was strange to see him looking so defeated. 

“I don’t sleep well…” he began. “For, I don’t know how long. Since the accident. But before that, too… I’ve never slept well.” 

“Me either. But that’s because I’m usually up making bad decisions at this time” Elliot joked. He got a half smile out of Octane, and damned if it wasn’t the prettiest half smile he’d ever seen. 

“I’m sorry amigo” Tavi sighed. “I don’t know why I’m here, um..” 

“No! No, don’t be sorry, I’m happy you’re here.” At that Octane offered a real smile, and yes Elliot’s heart _definitely_ fluttered this time. 

“Hey follow me.” The two of them stood and Mirage led him to another room which was completely empty except for a gorgeous mahogany grand piano centered underneath a chandelier which Octane thought looked more expensive than his car. Elliot sat at the bench and motioned for Tavi to join. 

“Wow.” He breathed. “You can play?” Elliot grinned. 

“I can do a lot more than that.” He began a soft but upbeat melody. 

_I’m a new soul I came to this strange world hoping I could learn a thing ‘bout how to give and take_

Octane listened in awe because holy shit Mirage could _sing_ and his playing was beautiful and this man was truly utterly talented. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he showed up at Elliot’s door at 2am, but it certainly wasn’t this, though he was happy with the outcome. 

_Come and give me your hand.. I’ll take you far away..._  
At that Octane felt like he wanted to cry because this song was beautiful and it was made even more beautiful with Elliot’s voice, and the words started getting to him because he really wanted to offer his hand and be taken far away from this strange world even though he chose to be in it. A stupid decision he soon realized, but he couldn’t back out lest he ruin his daredevil reputation. He was so lost in thought he didn’t realize the song had ended or that Elliot was staring at him for who knows how long. 

“Oh, sorry. That, um, wow.” He was rendered speechless for once. “You’re… _amazing_.” Elliot smiled a genuine smile and not one of his flashy camera ready grins. Now Octane was the one whose heart jumped a little more than usual.

“Thanks. My mom used to sing that to my brothers and I when we couldn’t sleep.” Silence befell them again, but it was lighter now. 

“Hey Tavi?” Elliot started after a moment. 

“Yeah amigo?”

“Are your eyes naturally that color?” Octane chuckled. 

“Ah, no. They used to be blue. Guess I've done too many drugs eh?” 

“Ha. Well I like them, they’re gorg- gor- they look nice.” 

“Oh. Thank you.” Nobody had really noticed his eyes before, though he frequently wore goggles so he didn’t pay it much notice. It was nice to be complimented though, especially from someone as attractive as Elliot. 

“You drink?” he offered, standing from the piano and heading into his unnecessarily large kitchen. Tavi was a little disappointed because he wanted Elliot to keep singing to him, but he wasn’t one to turn down a good drink either. 

“Oh, yeah. Tequila?” 

Mirage grinned. “I’ve got it all.” 

Usually when people came to Elliot’s door at 2am and drinks became involved, he woke up hungover, miserable, and regretting every life decision he’s ever made. Last night was different, thankfully. They stayed up till 6, slowly sipping glasses of various different alcohols and talking about anything and everything. They both played like shit that same afternoon, sleep deprived and slightly drunk, but it was worth it when he said Octane was welcome back over _anytime_ and got a huge dorky smile in return. Neither of their respective teams made top 5, but given the circumstances top 10 was a victory in Elliot's book and he immediately went to his place to crash. Octane didn’t. 

He was exhausted. He’d been up for over 24 hours, but when he got back from the day's game he once again found himself staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. He showered, went for a run, showered again, ate dinner... and ended up back in bed staring at the ceiling. He checked the time. 6:34pm. _Elliot did say anytime…_

  
“Tavi! Woah, you look like shit.” 

Octane snorted. “Uh huh. Thanks.” 

“Oh sorry! no, I- ah. Didn’t mean it like that. Um, wow. Still can’t sleep huh?” Elliot himself had been passed out since he got home, awoken suddenly by Octane’s soft knock _which god knows how that managed to wake him up but he’s glad it did_ and was rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“Did I wake you up?” And Elliot knew that Octane knew he did but he smiled and opened the door wider anyways. 

“Yeah. But that’s okay, I’m glad you’re here.”

Octane walked straight into his piano room and grabbed his pink bunny which he forgot there the previous night, and then turned and pouted at Elliot.

“You let me forget my rabbit.”

Elliot snort laughed. “Hey I’m not respons- res- It’s not my fault you forgot.. Whatever that is here.” 

“Maybe that’s why I couldn’t sleep.” He smiled down at the pink toy, remembering all the times it brought him comfort when he woke up in a cold sweat. 

“Do you want to lie down with me?” He offered sheepishly, pink blossoming across his dark features. “Maybe my bed is just more comfortable than yours. And I’m still pretty tired.” _Oh my god why does my mouth just say things before my brain thinks about them he doesn’t want to lie down with you you stupid idiot._ But much to his surprise, Octane smiled. 

“Can he come too?” He held up his pink bunny. Elliot laughed. 

“The more the merrier.” He led Octane to his bedroom, which of course he would have a California king sized bed. He also had white silk sheets and an enormous fluffy comforter, Octane wondered why he needed such a large bed if he lived by himself, but _oh man it really was more comfortable than octane’s own bed_ and for the first time in a long time he felt his lids get heavy and his heart slowed to a more acceptable level. 

“Hey amigo, uh sorry if this is weird. Um. I usually… my legs”

“Oh! Yeah, no worries whatever makes you comfor- com- whatever feels best.” And truth to be told it was a little weird watching the other man pop his steel legs off and settle his upper half into the sheets but it didn’t bother him entirely. 

The two of them had a lot of room to themselves in the huge bed but Octane found himself scooting closer to Elliot, drawn to his warmth and finding comfort in having another living being next to him. And finally, after an ungodly amount of time being awake, Octane was out like a light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song He's singing is "New Soul" by Yael Naim


	2. A win for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot promises Octane a win.

It wasn’t until 2:30 the next afternoon that Octavio awoke. He rubbed his eyes, disoriented, and looked around the room which was a little too nice to be his.  _ Oh right. I went to Elliot's.  _ The curtains were drawn, shrouding everything in darkness and giving the illusion that it was maybe still early in the morning. He shot up in a panic when he saw the time on Elliot’s alarm clock.  _ I slept for 20 hours?!  _ The runner leaned over and grabbed his prosthetics, popping them into place before sliding out of bed and pulling the curtains open. He held up an arm against the blinding daylight which blanketed the room like a flash grenade.

“Dios mio” he sighed.  _ I was supposed to play a game today.  _ Elliot was gone but in his place was a neatly folded sheet of paper. He noted how nice the elegantly written words looked as he opened it, mentally comparing it to his own chicken scratch. 

_ Tavi, _

_ Kind of seemed like you needed some more sleep _

_ instead of a win. I told everyone you were sick and  _

_ couldn’t play today. Don’t worry, I’ll win for you.  _

_ Oh and don’t forget your bunny.  _

_ Best- _

_ Ell _

Octane smiled softly to himself, tucking the paper into his pocket. He really had needed more sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept so well, for so long and so… undisturbed. _Probably since before I was born_ he mused. After finding his pink bunny, he made sure to remake Elliot’s bed nicely, as it seemed like the type of thing the trickster might normally do. After their kiss in the battlefield the day of his… _episode,_ as he liked to refer to his freakouts, he found himself thinking often of the older legend. 

_ It was just to snap you out of your freak out. He didn’t know what else to do.  _

And yet,  _ had they always met eyes so often before?  _

Arriving back at his own floor, he switched on the TV, curious as to if Elliot actually  _ did  _ win a game for him. They were still going, as luck would have it. Four squads remained, and Elliot’s was one. He was leading Wraith and Caustic up a mud path alongside the cage. An odd group, but they had made it this far. As they approached the bottom floor of the cage a shot from a sentinel sniper rifle zinged right past Caustic’s head. The three of them dove for cover in the building, Caustic throwing traps down behind them. 

“I think someone has a shot on us,” Wraith stated. Mirage threw his hands in the air, exasperated.

“Yeah no shit Wraith! Caustic almost lost his head!” Octane winced at the accusatory tone coming through the screen. Tensions were high but he could remember a time where fighting amongst his own squad had cost them the game. 

“Don’t bite my head off! I was just giving a warning” Wraith shot back. Caustic hummed disapprovingly, looking down on the two from his new position on the second floor, like a father at his two squabbling children. Mirage sighed wearily. 

“Sorry. Yeah. I know. I just promi- pro- I told someone I would win for them today.” 

Octane practically beamed on the other side of the screen. 

Wraith grinned, seemingly accepting of the explanation. She gave him a playful nudge. “Who’s that, pretty girl or something?” Mirage chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. 

“Yeah. Or something.” He flashed the camera a TV ready smile and winked. 

“Enemies approaching” Caustic’s deep voice suddenly cut in. Over the hill, Bloodhound, Crypto, and Pathfinder were rapidly approaching their position in the cage. 

“Guess we know who shot that sentinel” Elliot quipped, pulling his R-301 off his belt and making sure it was fully loaded. 

“Not Bloodhound. They don’t miss.” Wraith came back. Mirage shrugged as if to say  _ well yeah fair point _ though he couldn’t tell if she was being completely serious. She sat up all of a sudden and whipped her head in the other direction. 

“We’re being flanked by another squad. Climb.” The three of them jumped to the next floor before hopping on a zipline that led to the top, just as the bottom doors flung open and Caustic’s traps began spewing toxic gas on the first squad. On the opposite side, Lifeline and her squad, Bangalore and Gibraltar, rushed in, all six of them coughing as they were assaulted by Caustic’s traps. It was an absolute bloodbath. Bloodhound managed to knock both Bangalore and Gibraltar with their  _ sentinel,  _ (yes, the sniper rifle) which they quickly decided had a better designation as a shotgun. And yes, even at point blank range it would seem they did not, in fact, miss. (Except for their earlier pot shot at Caustic but that was close enough in Elliot’s book). They were themselves taken down by Lifeline with two quick shots from her wingman. 

Pathfinder had grappled up the building as the shootout started, ending up just below where Elliot and his squad sat waiting. A quick burst of bullets from his R-301 through the metal grid that separated them knocked him before he had a chance to look up. 

“Hey! Friends! There’s another sq-” Wraith didn’t give him a chance to finish, sending a round from her triple take through his mechanical head. Crypto and Lifeline remained on the bottom floor, too distracted by each other to notice Pathfinder being taken out. Mirage motioned for the three of them to ambush the two remaining hostiles, Caustic making quick work of them both with his Eva-8 shotgun. He didn’t much like to third party but it wasn’t his fault the two other squads had decided to converge on their location.

Octane, from his position on the couch having made instant noodles (because yes even his food had to be fast), found himself to be unusually excited. He competed in these games nearly daily, but being on the other side, watching without already knowing the outcome, it was sort of fun. His heart jumped as the holo-technician flashed the cameras another smile, his team upgrading their shields and stockpiling ammo. 

“Gotta move” Wraith piped. “Ring’s gonna hurt.” They finished up looting the five boxes and made off towards the next circle, seemingly forgetting pathfinder’s box on the upper floor. Octane wanted to yell at them through the screen to turn back, because of course it had something gold in it. He tried to convince himself it was just weapon hop-up, but inwardly cringed when he saw Mirage was the only person left with a purple shield on. Wraith and Caustic both had upgraded to gold, and of course leave it to Mirage to play nice and keep his purple. With only two squads left, however, they would (hopefully) be fine. 

The circle ended up closing around hydro-dam, Mirage and his squad taking up position on a flat rooftop with some sandbags stacked up for cover. They scanned the area and waited. And waited…. And waited. 

_ We have our Apex Champions!  _ The female announcer’s voice boomed from the sky. 

“Uh…. What?” Elliot asked, looking around. Wraith snorted. 

“They died outside the circle.” Caustic merely shrugged, accepting of the victory but disappointed without the final shootout. 

“Not much of a win I suppose. You gonna tell lover girl?” Wraith joked, grinning as she hopped on the dropship that came to transport them out of the arena. Mirage smirked, blowing a kiss at the camera. 

“Oh… he knows.” Octane smiled from his end of the TV. True to his word, Elliot won the day’s game for him. 

  
  


Back on the dropship Wraith raised her eyebrow at Mirage’s previous statement. 

“He?” 

“What? Nothing wrong with a two lane highway!” he quipped. Wraith laughed. 

“Not at all. I just never knew you were into men.”

“Honey, you have  _ no idea  _ what I’m into.” 

She rolled her eyes and hopped off the ship, having arrived back at the tower. They went through their usual rounds of smiling for the cameras, which Elliot did most of, and short aftergame interviews, which Elliot also did most of. He was relieved to finally arrive back at his bar, Paradise Lounge, for a victory drink. Elliot felt his chest warm to the sight of a certain runner sitting at the counter, leaning back with his elbows on the table (Elliot  _ hated  _ when customers did that, but when Tavi did it, it was kinda hot). 

“Hola! Congrats mis amigos!” Octane called, waving Mirage over. He grinned, more than happy to oblige. 

“Hey Tavi! How’re you feeling? Heard you were sick.”

“Oh, yeah.” He feigned coughing into his arm. “Lots better amigo, thanks.” Elliot smirked, causing the speed demon’s cheeks to flush pink. 

“Catch the game?” He grabbed a bottle of whisky from behind the counter, pouring a shot into the four glasses in front of him (including Caustic’s, who  _ never  _ drank, but Elliot would drink his if he declined). 

“Si, nice job amigos. But an easy win at the end.” His eyes twinkled as he laughed, Elliot putting a hand to his chest in mock offense. 

“Hey! At least I got up in time.” he joked. Then added softly just so Octane could hear, “you look a lot better though.” 

“Tavi! What are ya ‘nd your sick butt doing in here? Ya get t’ feeling better?” Lifeline’s voice cut across the room as she and her squad from the day entered the bar. He smiled at his longtime friend. 

“All better amiga. No thanks to you.” She rolled her eyes then turned her gaze to Mirage. “I think you owe us a drink. Cheatin’ ya way t’ a win like that.” 

“Anything for you!” he crooned, grabbing another set of glasses. 

As the night wore on, legends came and went, having drinks and talking with fans before retiring to their respective rooms. Even Octane with his limitless energy tapped out, unable to hold his liquor because  _ hey I’m a drug addict not an alcoholic  _ he had said, stumbling out the door. Mirage had the afterthought to make sure he got home safely but in his own drunken stupor he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to get  _ himself _ home. Soon it was 2am, his bar was a mess and only Wraith remained. She never seemed to sleep. Elliot pondered if she even  _ needed  _ to sleep. She slammed another shot and turned to look at him, eyes twinkling. 

“What?” he deadpanned. 

“Oh nothing…” she trailed off, then giggled like a schoolgirl. “It’s Octane.”

“Huh?” 

“The person you promised today’s win to. It’s Octane isn’t it?” 

At that moment he really wanted to wipe the shit eating grin off her face, but he was both too drunk to stand up and… well, she was right. She giggled again in the following silence, seeming to accept that as a ‘yes’ from Elliot. 

“Oh my  _ god!”  _ she gasped. “You  _ like  _ him don’t you?”

“I, well-”

“Does he like you?”

“What? N-no I don’t-”

“Was he even sick today?  _ Ohhhh  _ was he up late last night with you?”

“He  _ wasn’t!” _

Wraith stared at him, the same grin on her face, letting the silence build up. He sighed, defeated. 

“Okay well it wasn’t  _ last  _ night… but, we did stay up for drinks the night before..” he admitted. She gasped again and practically squealed. 

“ _ Oh my god that is so cute.”  _

“You’re drunk.” 

“I’m still gonna think it’s cute when I’m sober!” she sang matter-of-factly. “And you’re drunk too.” 

“Whatever Wraith! Just, ugh. Please don’t tell anyone.” 

“Oh please. You think I don’t have better things to do with my time than gossip about a movie-star and his lover boy?” 

Elliot raised an eyebrow. 

“Okay fine I don’t. But I promise I won’t tell. But you have to tell me what you guys did! And also you know you can call me Renee?” 

“Yeah, Wrai- Renee. We didn’t do anything! He just came over and we talked all night over drinks, I sang him a song, and then I guess he doesn’t sleep very well because he came over the next night too, um, which was last night, and he sort of just fell right asleep. And- oh I mean we kissed one time in the middle of a game but-”

“You guys  _ kissed?!”  _ Elliot hated when she got drunk and her normally soothing voice got all squeaky with excitement.

“Um yeah but it wasn’t like a  _ kiss  _ kiss, it was like, I don’t know. He was freaking out and I didn’t know how to calm him down.” 

Wraith laughed, finishing off the last of their bottle and setting her glass down on the counter. “You know, usually when someone is freaking out, a kiss from arguably the most attractive legend isn’t going to calm them down. What happened anyways?” 

“Yeah well- wait arguably? Who’s more attractive than I am?”

“Um, seriously? Loba. Haven’t you seen that girl’s ass?” 

He scoffed. “Okay the most attractive  _ male  _ on the roster, Renee. Anyways. I’m not sure, a grenade went off and he had like, a full blown panic attack. But it happened so quickly.. I don’t really- oh shit I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that. You’d better not tell anybody either.” 

She smiled and ran her fingers across her lips like she was closing a zipper, twisting her hand in the corner to lock it in place. “My lips, are sealed. But I mean… Do you  _ want  _ to  _ kiss  _ kiss him?”

He sighed. “Yeah. But I don’t know, I think he sees me as a friend.” 

“Are you kidding? With the way you two were acting tonight? If I were a stranger walking into this bar you’d be the most obvious couple here.”

“You think so?” 

“Yes!” And she gasped loudly again, which seemed exaggerated with the both of them being drunk. “You should go over to his place.”

“Um. No.” 

“Why not?”

“It’s nearly 3am and I’m still half drunk?” 

“Okay well I’m full drunk so you  _ know _ it’s a great idea.” She cackled to herself. “C’mon I bet he’d be happy to see you.”

And Elliot knew in the back of his mind that this was a  _ terrible  _ idea but dammit he was half drunk and he was going to go give Tavi a  _ kiss  _ kiss because that’s all he’d been wanting to do since the panic kiss in the arena. He stood up, surprising himself with how steady he could walk, and tossed Wraith the keys to the bar. 

“Can you lock up for me?” She flashed him a toothy smile and a thumbs up. 

“Kay but I’m gonna drink more of your alcohol.” He shrugged, because that seemed like a fair trade through his haze, and made his way back to the tower. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading if you've made it this far!


	3. Half Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirage maybe has a tiny drinking problem.

Octane had gone home last night around 11pm. He knew he wasn’t going to sleep, but he was _drunk_ (who was he kidding trying to keep up with Elliot?) and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself, for once. A daring fool? Sure. Blew off his own legs and watched the fans cheer. But a drunk fool? Not really his style. There was always something unsettling about being told what drunken misadventures he had partaken in, without actually remembering them. Mostly, though, he was afraid of saying or doing something around Elliot that might “out” his growing crush, so to speak. That being said, he was honestly surprised when 3am rolled around, having sobered up, and his netflix binge was interrupted by a rather loud knock at his door. He opened it to find Elliot himself, leaned against the door frame in an attempt to look sexy, but more just looked like he was trying to keep himself from falling over. 

“Elliot?”

He giggled. “Were ya sleeping?” He slurred. And it seemed that was how the two were going to greet each other at the door, even though he already knew the runner wasn’t asleep.

“Uh, no. Are you drunk?” 

“Pfft. No. Maybe. Half. Can I come in?” He smiled at the younger man. _Was there always two of everything?_ Octane nodded and stepped aside, though as soon as he did the trickster practically face planted onto the floor. 

“Oh! Are you alright?” He offered a hand, but it was swatted away followed by a slew of drunken giggles. 

“I am perfect!” he responded, looking up from the floor at the other man. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, I mean-”

“Wait! You know what you are?” Elliot interrupted. Octane fell silent, waiting for him to finish. “You aaaare… beauti- beaut- you’re really pretty!” 

Out of all the things Octavio expected to come out of the other man’s mouth, that wasn’t one. As much as his heart wanted to take the compliment and run, he realized it was most likely attributed to Elliot’s current inebriated state of mind. 

“You’re drunk.” He stated.

“Half! And I’ll still think so when I’m sober!” Mirage exclaimed, remembering that Wraith had said something similar earlier in the night. “I _do_ think so when I’m sober.” 

“If this is _half_ drunk I’m afraid to see what you’re like fully drunk. Do you need help?” He offered a hand again and was surprised when Mirage grabbed on and yanked him down to the floor, instead of the opposite. More drunken giggles followed.

“No, you need help down.”

Octane rolled his eyes at the statement, rolling over so they were both on their backs staring at the ceiling. 

“You do realize…” he began. “That I do not have real legs.” The older legend quirked an eyebrow and giggled again.

“Yes, and?” He questioned. 

The runner sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. “...and that means now we _both_ need help up, amigo.” 

“Oh! I can help you!” He scrambled back to his feet with more energy than Octane thought a man this drunk should possibly have- despite having been in a similar position himself before but c’mon he was Octane- before grabbing the younger man’s hands and yanking him back on his mechanical feet.

“Okay” he sighed. “Thanks. Um, maybe you should go to bed?” Octavio asked gently. “I can walk you back…”

“Mm. Yes! Love to go to bed with you, pretty man!” Elliot piped in response.

“Oh- I meant... to sleep, in _your_ bed. you’re drunk.”

“ _Half_ drunk!” he grumbled, glaring back at Octavio like a kid who just got told they couldn’t have any more sugar. Then as if a switch flipped in his head he pouted and threw on the best puppy dog eyes he could. “Are you gonna come with meeeee?” he whined. 

The younger man sighed again and absent mindedly rubbed the back of his hand. “Yes I’ll- yeah I’ll walk you home okay? You need to get some sleep.”

“Okay I was just kidding though I’m way too half-drunk to get it up right now.”

Octane face palmed. “To _sleep,_ Elliot.”

“Ohhh yeah okay. But you’re gonna come with me right?” More drunken giggles and puppy dog eyes and the two men stepped out the door to make the very short elevator ride back to Mirage’s place. Which of course was made about 10 minutes longer than it needed to be because Elliot wouldn’t stop pushing all the buttons, opening and closing the door repeatedly, stopping at random floors, and laughing at Octavio’s annoyed expression. At one point the door opened to a _very_ drunk Wraith, who had finally decided that sitting alone in an empty bar was bumming her out, stole two bottles of top shelf liquor, and now found herself standing in front of the two. 

“Oh my god _heeeeey guys!”_ she squealed. “Fancy meeting you here!” she stumbled forward and Octavio basically had to catch her to stop her from breaking her face on camera in an elevator. 

“We do all live here, amiga” Octane responded, helping her stand straight again. She smiled back before pushing the button that would take her to the correct floor, which Tavi pointedly noted was farther away from the tricksters own. 

“Hey… where did you get those bottles fro-”

“Oh here are your keys!” Wraith cut the older man off, seemingly producing a set of keys out of thin air, and shoving them in Elliot’s general direction. “I’m like 90 percent sure I locked the doors when I left.” The comment didn’t seem to register in the holo-tech’s mind, as he was still squinting at the two bottles Wraith held in her other hand. He was about to say something again but the doors dinged open and she stepped out, still stumbling, but amazingly keeping herself upright. 

“Okay thanks for the booze!” she slurred, making her way down the hall, leaning on the walls for support. 

“God dammit Wraith I knew you took those from my-” Elliot was cut off again as the doors slid shut. 

“She totally stole those from my bar!” he whined, turning to look at Octavio who was growing a little frustrated with the situation. 

“We can worry about it tomorrow amigo.” Elliot pouted but didn’t say anything else, thankfully forgetting about his fun games with the elevator buttons and allowing the other to _finally_ go up to the tricksters floor. 

It was a relief when Octane was finally able to help the taller man slide into bed, as supporting half his weight while they walked was a little harder than he previously thought it would be. Elliot was heavier than he looked. 

“Mmm. Thank you pretty man.” Mirage sighed, stripping off his uniform until he was left in a tank top and boxers. He got snuggled into the sheets, his eyes beginning to droop shut, Octavio smiling back at him in response. He turned to leave, but was stopped when Elliot grabbed his arm and looked up at him. 

“You’re not gonna stay?” 

“I- oh. Um. Did you want me to?” he chuckled awkwardly. 

“Yes. Pretty man in my bed.” His words were starting to slur again and his grip on the runner’s arm relaxed. It seemed he was about to fall asleep right then. Octane envied how easy sleep seemed to come for everyone else. Maybe it was just because he was drunk. Or _half_ drunk, he mused. 

“Yeah okay, I can stay with you” Octavio answered softly. Satisfied with the answer, Elliot released his grip completely and got comfortable in the covers. Tavi walked over and flipped off the light-switch, mentally mapping his path back to the bed in order to avoid tripping on all the bits from Elliot’s gear which were haphazardly strewn about the floor. After climbing into the other side of the tricksters bed, he removed his prosthetics and placed them leaning against the wall, close enough to reach. He settled in, pulling the covers up around himself, and was surprised when the older man turned over and drew him into a hug. 

“Oh” he smiled softly in the darkness, before adjusting into a more comfortable position and wrapping his own arms around Elliot’s warm body. 

_Okay yeah he’s totally drunk. But who doesn’t like a good cuddle every now and then?_ Octane thought. 

“Tavi?” Elliot murmured into the runner’s chest. 

“Yes?” he answered softly. 

“Can I give you a kiss?”

Octavio wasn’t sure if the other man’s words were slurred because he was (half) drunk or if it was because his mouth was mushed against his chest, but he was certain his heart rate speeding up didn’t go unnoticed. 

“I’m not sure that’s the best-”

“Why nooooot?” he interjected, whining like a kid with no presents on Christmas. 

“It’s just, well I don’t know…” he began softly. “You’re- maybe a little more than half drunk? And most of the time when people who are more than half drunk want to kiss me it’s _only_ because they’re drunk and I just..” he trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Elliot seemingly got the point though, because he snuggled closer and threw an arm around the younger legends waist. 

“S’okay.” Elliot mumbled. “What about tomorro- tommro- when I’m not drunk?” he asked again. 

Octane smiled to himself in the darkness. “If you still want to tomorrow…”

“You promise??” Elliot basically shouted, causing the other to jump at the sudden volume increase. He laughed.

“Yeah I promise.” Octavio could feel Elliot’s mouth curve into a smile against his chest. 

  
“Okay because I _will_ want to tomorrow. Sober. And the days after that. Aaaaaall the days after that!” he sang.

And Octane _really_ hoped it wasn’t the alcohol talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Writing again for the first time in a while, so bear with me. I know it all feels a little rushed and I maybe used the same adjectives more than once too closely together. Hoping to improve as I go along, constructive criticism welcome :)


	4. Remember me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mornings are the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: substance abuse and mentions of alcoholism.

For the second night in a row, Octavio slept. Like, _actually_ slept. Complete with snoring and drool, and _not_ waking up every few hours for no good reason (maybe his body just hated him). He vaguely remembers rolling over and stretching out on the other side of the bed, to which Elliot complained that it was too cold and pulled him back over. Though he’s unsure if that really happened through his sleepy haze. Bright sunlight flitted through closed blinds, dotting the walls as if Elliot had a disco ball in his room. He panicked momentarily, remembering the last time he woke up and saw the daylight he had slept for 20 hours and basically missed an entire day. Thankfully glancing over at the clock showed it was only 9am, and Sunday.

_No games today,_ he thought. He sighed peacefully and stretched, taking care not to disturb Elliot, who was presently still deep asleep and snoring rather loudly. Octavio felt the urge to laugh, seeing the other man like this. He was usually so put together and camera ready, never leaving a hair out of place. Now his mouth was hanging open with drool, a mess of curls flopping randomly and covering most of his face. Octavio smiled instead. 

_He’s adorable._

He let a good 45 minutes pass, silently scrolling through various social media apps, responding to comments and reposting fanart he thought was cool. At one point he scrolled past a picture drawn of him and Mirage… _together…_ suffice it to say he couldn't stop the blush creeping up his face if it killed him. Apparently there was a large part of their fanbase that ‘shipped’ them together- whatever that meant. He smiled, thankful the other man wasn’t awake to catch him staring at the drawing a little too long. He pondered, briefly, going down _that_ rabbit hole and seeing what else of him and Mirage was out there. Some of the art his fans made was _good._ Like, _really_ good. So realistic in fact he’d believe it if someone told him it was an actual snapshot, and not just a drawing. He ultimately decided against it, thinking that it’d be best he didn’t spend most of the morning on his phone. He clicked it off and tossed it aside, beginning to wonder if maybe he should just leave before Elliot woke up, a decision which was made for him when the other stirred with a pained groan beside him. Octane smiled. 

“Good morning! You look like shit” he joked, parroting what Elliot had said to him the second night he stopped over. 

“Tavi? What are you doing he- oh shit” his eyes widened and he clapped a hand over his mouth before bolting out of bed and sprinting to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The distinct sound of having too much to drink the night before followed. Octavio popped his legs back on and walked over to the door, knocking gently. 

“Elliot are you okay?” he asked. 

Another groan in response, then, sheepishly, “Could you get me some water please?”

“Si, yes, of course. I’ll be right back.” He walked over into Elliot’s impressively large kitchen, opening several cabinets before finding the one filled with cups. After grabbing a glass and filling it with the tap in the fridge door he made his way back, knocking gently again and pushing the door open. Elliot was slumped over the toilet, face still half in the bowl. He cracked an eye open when Octavio entered, attempting a smile. 

“Here,” he handed the glass over. Elliot flinched. 

“Too loud,” he mumbled, though gratefully accepting the glass and downing half of it. Almost immediately he turned back to the toilet and spewed it out. Octavio knelt beside him, concerned, and rubbed his back. 

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. This is disgusting,” Elliot moaned, taking another sip of water. 

“No it’s- uh. Yeah. Are you okay? Need anything else?” He paused. “Do you want me to go?” He finished softly. 

“No! No. Don’t go” Elliot started. “Could you give me a minute though?” He motioned to the door and Octavio walked out slowly, taking a seat on the edge of Elliot’s bed. 

_Tavi? What are you doing he-_

His words upon waking up replayed in the runner’s head. What was he doing here? Did the older man not remember? At least he didn’t want him to leave just yet, that must’ve counted for something. Elliot came back out of his bathroom after 20 minutes or so, having taken a cold shower and downing what was probably a lethal amount of aspirin. Octavio was shocked at how put together Elliot once again looked, as if he hadn’t just been face hugging a toilet bowl on death’s door moments earlier. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and was drying off his hair with a second one.

“Um. So about last night…”

“Elliot it’s-”

“No really I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get that drunk last night. Let alone get you involv- invol- drag you into it. Um, I don’t actually even remember how you got here… nevermind. Not important. If I did or said something...”

_He doesn’t remember._

“I definitely didn’t mean it.”

_Oh._

Elliot cracked a grin. “Just a little too much alcohol.” He finished. 

“That’s- no really it’s okay.” Octavio tried hard to hide the disappointment laced in his voice. He plastered on a smile and stood up. “I should get going though, uh-”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m sorry. I guess I’ll see you…”

“Around.” Octavio said, smiling again and beginning to make his way to the front door. Elliot smiled back a little awkwardly, scratching at his head. 

“Yeah yeah, around. That’s cool. Okay I’ll see you around.” He walked with Octavio to the door, closing it gently behind him after he left. 

_______________________

Elliot found himself heading towards the cafeteria later, deciding that cooking anything of any magnitude was far too much effort, plus, he had a soft spot for the terrible cafeteria coffee. He spotted Wraith upon entering, looking just as trashed as he did this morning, staring blankly in front of her while her cup of coffee cooled. He grabbed a donut and a cup for himself, sauntering over to his friend. She groaned as she saw him, holding her head between her hands. 

“No.” She said flatly. He took a bite.

“G’morning sunshine!” he piped, mouth full, before taking a seat in front of her.

“I am never. Drinking. With you. Again.” She rested her forehead on the table, uncaring of how strange she looked to everyone else. 

“You said that last time,” he joked. “What’s wrong, can’t keep up?” She glared up at him.

“You’re an alcoholic.” 

He waved his hand nonchalantly. “Yeah whatever. Okay so listen, I have a problem.”

“A… drinking problem?”

He sighed. “Renee I’m serious!” 

“Okay what is your problem?” she asked, amusement creeping into her voice.

“Other than, y’know, not remembering the second half of the night? Well, I woke up this morning with… um..” he trailed off.

“Tavi?” she finished, smirking. He looked up from his coffee.

“Yes. How did you know that?” 

She quirked a brow at him. “Wait, you seriously don’t remember?” He opened his mouth but didn’t say anything, closing it a moment later, and shrugged. She gasped excitedly. 

“So _I_ remember and _you_ don’t? Does that mean I out drank you?”

“Oh my god that is not- okay, fine. Yes. Congratula- congrat- nice job. You have a drinking problem now too. Getting back to the real issue here, seeing as you somehow remember last night, why the fuck did I wake up with Tavi?” 

She laughed. “Well I don’t know all the _sordid_ details of your guys’ night. But you left the bar around 2, maybe 3 in the morning? Said you were going to give him a kiss. I ran into you both in the elevator a few hours later. Didn’t think to ask where you were headed.”

“At _3 in the morning?_ I left to ‘give him a kiss’?! Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I-” she paused, remembering how it was _totally_ her idea that he go over to Tavi’s in the first place. “...am not responsible for your drunken antics,” she finished. He groaned and scrubbed his face. 

“Dude he was like, I don’t know. He seemed upset with me? Probably didn’t help that I puked my guts out the second I woke up.” 

She made a face, holding her hand up. “Me too.” He gave her a high five. 

“We’re all kinds of fucked up, huh?” he asked softly. She shrugged again and nodded, staring off for a second before focusing back on the topic at hand.

“Did you guys… y’know...” she made a circle with her fingers, poking into it with her other hand, the 7th grade hand signal for ‘have sex’. 

“I don’t know- I don’t… remember. I don’t think so? I mean usually I can tell the morning after if that happened but-”

“I don’t want to know. Why not just go ask him?” 

He whined and looked down at the floor. “I think he’s upset with me. And I can’t really apologize because I have no idea what happened.”

Wraith reached across the table and gave his hand a squeeze, smiling reassuringly. “Hey I’m sure it’ll be fine. If it’s that big of a deal, he’ll come to you eventually. Let’s just get through today because I still feel like death.”

He looked back up, smiling. “You look like death too.” She smacked his arm playfully.

“Whatever. At least I can handle my liquor,” she joked, winking at him. 

_______________________

Octavio was disappointed, to say the least. He knew Elliot was more intoxicated than he would admit to, but you can’t blame a guy for hoping someone as handsome as Elliot would still want to kiss him sober. Only now he was faced with the ‘walk of shame’ back to his place, except he didn’t even get to have any fun the night before. He was no stranger to a drunken night out, having no memory when waking the next morning. It’s the main reason he cut back on drinking so much- ultimately trying to quit completely. He remembered many times from his childhood when his parents would stumble home, getting back from some ritzy party after having left him alone the whole night. He didn’t realize then that his parents had a problem, and even now he didn’t like admitting that he himself fell off the wagon for a bit after losing his legs. 

Drinking was… an escape, from the cold harshness of reality. He had done it all. Coke, heroin, stim- obviously. The thing about drinking was that it was _so easy._ Alcohol was everywhere. It was relatively cheap, and it was a socially acceptable activity, expected even. It was more likely for someone to think you were strange if you _didn’t_ drink. He remembered the last time he ever shot up heroin. The satisfying rush that quickly died, leaving him wanting- _needing_ more. He remembered sitting, feeling numb through his high, and _wishing_ his addiction was to alcohol. It would’ve been so easy. Alcohol was accessible at all times. He didn’t have to meet sketchy people in back allies, the heir to the Silva fortune, reduced to a junkie on the streets. And people, dealers, they _always_ knew who he was. And they _always_ delivered, knowing that despite his appearances he had money. And lots of it. With alcohol he wouldn’t have to do any of that. He could drink himself to death at the third of the cost and the liquor store clerk wouldn’t even bat an eye. It wasn’t until the end of his last 3-day binge, having blown through nearly a grand on various substances, that Ajay found him, strung out and staring at a bottle he hadn’t touched. He wished his addiction was to alcohol, but it wasn’t. 

She had begged him to get help, tried to send him to rehab, but settled on addiction counseling when he absolutely refused to go. It helped, kind of. They said he had PTSD from the explosion that took his legs, and that he was using to escape the constant state of anxiety he was in. He didn’t quite believe it though. He had used long before the accident, but their words had some truth to them. It used to be snorting coke at parties. Occasional fun that gave him a break from the boredom. No big deal, people like to party. After the incident, however, it escalated frighteningly quick. Snorting coke turned into smoking crack off of foil which turned into shooting up heroin alone in his room. He wanted to stop. He was drowning and nobody cared. They only saw what they wanted to see, a party guy with enough money to supply the whole group. Ajay was his life raft. She pulled him out of the water, a guardian angel sent to save him. It was their secret now. He had gotten it together for the most part. Stim was still… an issue. But the lesser of two evils- he’d face his demons one at a time. He owed her a whole lot more than just his legs. 

“Quit ya worryin’,” she had said. “Ain’t nobody watchin’ out for ya like I do.” 

  
Drinking, now, left a bitter taste in his mouth, reminding him of all the times he wished he was _just_ an alcoholic. How ridiculous of a thought. Alcohol was... easier. But _alcoholism_ was just trading one addiction for another. It was a little inconvenient that his crush owned a bar. He wondered how often Elliot found himself in these situations. It was worrying how quickly he made himself presentable the next morning, as if it was something he did often, growing used to smiling through it. It reminded the runner of his parents, who would smile blankly at him during breakfast, trying to hide their respective hangovers. Though the thought brought with it much concern, he knew it wasn’t his place to intervene. _An addict will only accept help when they themselves want to quit._ And presently, he had other things to be upset about.


	5. Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot and Octavio are in high school.

“He hates me,” Elliot stated, plopping down in front of Wraith with a container of takeout. It had been 3 days since Octane had spoken to him, let alone even looked in his direction. Sure they weren’t super ‘buddy buddy’ before, but now it just felt like he was pointedly being avoided. 

“Who?” she asked through a mouth full of orange chicken. 

“Tavi! He hasn’t so much as looked my way since that night!” Elliot whined. She snorted, swallowing her food. 

“Okay, so? It’s not the first time one of your black-out nights has turned someone off of you. Why do you care so much?”

He frowned, stirring his noodles with a pair of chopsticks. “I think… I like him? I mean more than just the ‘woah you’re really hot without your mask on’ like him. Actual  _ feelings  _ like him. Which is gross. I know. But I think maybe I have for a while and just never really thought about it…” 

Wraith put down her own container of takeout and sighed, unsure of what to say in response to that. Elliot always seemed so confident when it came to romantic partners, and for the most part uncaring if his feelings weren’t reciprocated, brushing it off and setting his sights on a new target. Maybe they hadn’t been friends long enough, or maybe he just hadn’t had real feelings for anybody in a while, but the stark contrast between the confident trickster and this… insecure  _ mess  _ of a person was almost humorous. 

“Well I don’t think he hates you,” she finally said after a period of silence. “Maybe he’s just taking some time to think about things. I mean consider his point of view, he wakes up in a bed that’s not his own with a person who doesn’t remember how he got there? That’s gotta be a little awkward, if not embarrassing for him,” she reasoned. 

“You’re… right. I just hate this. It kind of seemed like we were forming this  _ connection  _ almost, and now it’s just… gone? Like nothing. Maybe I’m crazy.”

“What’s crazy is that you aren’t eating your delicious noodles while they’re still hot,” she joked as she snatched his container and took a bite. “But seriously, could always ask him, y’know, like an adult.” 

He glared at her, taking back his food and quickly realizing that he was not very good at using chopsticks. 

“What if that makes things worse?” he grumbled. She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips lifting up. 

“And how could having a mature adult conversation possibly be worse than avoiding each other like high schoolers?” 

He rolled his eyes, but sighed, conceding. “Whatever. Since when did you become the reasonable one?” he teased. She gasped jokingly.

“I always was. You just never listen.” 

“That’s preposter- preposr- that’s stupid. I never listen to anybody. Except myself. And my ma, of course” he said with a certain fondness in his tone that was reserved just for his mom.

“Well wouldn’t your mom tell you to act your age?” she replied, smirking, and took his silence to mean he knew she was right. 

___________________________________

It had been 3 days since Octane last slept. Properly that is. He had gotten a few hours here and there between games, but never long enough to feel rested. Between a new temporary game mode where the only weapons available were sniper rifles (yes, Bloodhound had won almost every one of these games) and awkwardly trying to avoid making eye contact with Elliot, his anxiety hadn’t been going easy on him. It was especially hard yesterday, when he and Elliot were placed on the same team along with Wattson. The tension between them was obvious, Wattson had even tried to lighten the mood with a joke. 

_ Electrifying! Get it? _

Truth to be told Octavio didn’t really know why he was still upset about the situation. It’s not like him and Elliot were anything more than friends to begin with. He  _ knew  _ just how drunk Elliot was when he showed up, and figured his flirtiness could be attributed to that. In the back of his mind, though, he had really hoped the older legend meant what he said. 

_ It’s not his fault he didn’t mean it… he was drunk  _ the runner kept trying to tell himself. Still, he found himself avoiding Elliot’s gaze and making sure Wattson never left them alone together. It felt a little unfair that the trickster would single him out in his drunken state of mind, make him feel special and then forget all about it the next morning. Considering, however, all the shit Octavio himself had pulled over the years while on some substance or another, he felt maybe he should give the other man a pass. Ajay had forgiven him for years of unforgivable mistakes, he could get over this. Right?

They had placed 4th, and only because Wattson carried them- being the only one of the three who could properly load a sniper rifle, let alone shoot it.  _ The kraber queen!  _ They had called her, but there’s only so much carrying one person can do in a match of trios. God knows why the syndicate thought this ‘sniper rifles only’ mode was a good idea, but Octavio was glad the day's game was the last. It should’ve been called “hey let’s give Bloodhound the biggest and most unfair advantage ever!” in his opinion. 

Elliot had invited everybody who placed in the top 5 to celebrate, marking the end of the awful game mode and also, hey top 5, that’s a reason to celebrate right? And Octavio wasn’t going to go. He  _ really  _ wasn’t going to. He was  _ super totally completely content not going guys okay he really didn’t want to...  _ when he got a knock on his door. 

“Wraith?”

“Octane.”

“...Hi?”

“Hello.”

“Um.” He cleared his throat. “What can I do for you amiga?” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Can I come in?”

“Okay…” he stepped aside to allow her in, motioning for her to take a seat. She didn’t, deciding instead to stand opposite him next to the kitchen counter. 

“So…. what are you doin-”

“Why are you avoiding Elliot?” she cut in. Octavio looked taken aback. He knew the two were close but didn’t think they were  _ this  _ close. 

“I’m not-”

“Yes, you are. What happened Tavi?”

“Nothing happen-”

“Stop. I don’t really know you aside from seeing you at the Paradise Lounge and in the games, but I do know Elliot. He likes you, and he’s too chicken shit to try and talk to you about it. He doesn’t remember a damn thing from the other night but it’s all he’s been able to think about. Start talking.” 

“H-he likes me?”

“Seriously?” she deadpanned. “You two are like children.”

He stared at her in silence for a moment, hoping that maybe if he didn’t say anything that she’d just  _ leave  _ and he wouldn’t have to explain why he’d been acting like such a  _ child _ the past few days. Unfortunately for him she was a master of remaining comfortable in awkward silence, perfectly content to wait him out. 

“Okay fine,” he eventually broke. “He came over at like 3 am and face planted on my floor and then dragged me down with him and kept insisting that he was only half drunk but I knew he was totally wasted so I walked him to his place but he wouldn’t stop playing with the elevator and that’s when we ran into you and then once we finally got there he wanted me to stay and cuddle with him so I did and then he asked if he could kiss me and I said no because he was drunk but then he said he’d want to tomorrow when he was sober except when we both woke up he didn’t even remember how I got there and that’s why I haven’t talked to him.” He stumbled over his words, talkings so fast he barely formed coherent sentences or even really took a breath. She raised an eyebrow at his jumble of word vomit.

“Huh. So I’m sure you get this a lot, but slow the fuck down, please? What exactly is so upsetting about that situation?”

“Um.” He averted his gaze, counting the tiles on his kitchen floor. She had a point. What  _ was  _ so upsetting about that situation?

“I guess I got it in my head that he wanted to get all close and kiss me for  _ me _ and not… because he was drunk.”

“Oh my god. Tavi. You dumbass.” She facepalmed. He looked back up at her, frowning. 

“What?”

“ _ That’s  _ why you’re upset with him? Just because he doesn’t remember saying it doesn’t mean it wasn’t true. He  _ does  _ want to kiss you for you. He likes you. The past few days he’s been beating himself up because he thought he said something that offended you.”

“I… oh.” 

“And I’m assuming,” she began, “that since the lack of sober Elliot’s affections has made you feel this way, you must like him too?”

“Um.”

“Okay great! I’ll go tell him.”

“Wait what?  _ Oh my god.  _ No. Please don’t.” 

She laughed now, thinking about how ridiculous this whole situation was and the fact that she was even here in the first place. “Two grown men. You’re both grown ass men. I shouldn’t have to be here sorting out a stupid misunderstanding. If you don’t want me to tell him… then I guess I’ll see you at the bar later? We’re all out celebrating… something.” She popped open a portal and exited his kitchen, leaving no room to object.

_ If she could do that why did she bother knocking on my door when she got here?  _ He mused. Then sighed contentedly. Though he was still running on way too little sleep and was starting to feel the exhaustion set in, his heart felt lighter. Sober Elliot (supposedly) still wanted to kiss him, and his (their) team had placed in the top 5 today, meaning he was invited to the celebration.  _ Expected,  _ now that Wraith had gone out of her way to fix things. Yep. He could do this. Totally not nervous about anything at all. He was Octane. Nothing scared him. Not jumping on grenades, or off of cliffs, and  _ especially  _ not a certain brown eyed trickster.

___________________________________

Elliot loved parties. He loved hosting parties, going to parties, being the life of the party, all of it. He sometimes wondered if he really loved parties, or if he _ actually _ loved the excuse to start drinking, but he never wondered long enough to care. Regardless, any reason to throw a party was a good enough reason in his book. Today’s reason just so happened to be the last day of that awful sniper rifle game mode the syndicate had forced upon them, but he also added it would be a celebration for all the teams that made it in the top 5, mainly because he hoped it would be convincing enough for Octavio to come. 

Everyone was just starting to arrive, ordering drinks and milling around. He poured his own glass of whisky but before he had a chance to take a sip Wraith materialized behind him, stepping out of her portal and snatching his glass away.

“ _ Oh my god”  _ he yelped, startled, bringing a hand to his chest. “You can’t just  _ do  _ that!”

She laughed. “I can, actually. I just did. And you’re not drinking this.” She swirled his drink around in its glass, eyeing the amber liquid before downing it in one gulp. He gave her a sideways look. 

“Okay then. Bottoms up I guess.” He grabbed another glass and was about to pour a different drink when she grabbed the bottle from his hand. 

“And you’re not drinking this either.” 

“Um excuse me. This is my bar and I’ll drink whatever I want to.” He moved to grab a different bottle, but she stepped in front and blocked him. 

“I will open a  _ giant portal _ and throw  _ every drop _ of alcohol in this place into whatever unknown universe the void takes it to. Don’t test me.” She crossed her arms and glared at him. He raised an eyebrow.

“...Why?”

“I’m your friend and I’m worried about your alcoholism.”

He scoffed. “Give me a break Renee. What’s the real reason?”

She shrugged, taking a swig straight off his bottle. He lunged to snatch it back from her but she easily stepped aside, catching his arm so he didn’t crash into the shelf of booze behind them. 

“I just think, as your friend, I should not support your alcoholic tendencies.”

“I’m not an alcoholi-”

“Oh! Then you should have no issue going one night without a drink, right?” she winked, holding the whisky bottle out of his reach, teasing. 

He rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m watching you. You’ll thank me later.”

He sighed and watched her step out from behind the bar, making off with the rather expensive bottle and disappearing into the crowd. 

_ You’ll thank me later? Seriously? I’m not that old yet.  _

  
He turned and faced his impressive wall of various liquor, contemplating briefly snagging another bottle because Wraith couldn’t  _ possibly  _ know when he was about to take a drink. He rolled his eyes at the thought. She  _ could  _ possibly know and he knew it. He decided to take her at her word and see where she was going with the notion of not drinking for a night, resigning himself to playing sober bartender. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for making it this far :)


	6. 0 for 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr that my terrible art attempts will be posted to: faelialitydraws

Turns out, playing sober bartender for a night  _ sucked.  _ Watching all your friends take shots and get plastered without you sucked. Watching all your friends laugh and have a good time without you sucked. Not being able to drink  _ in your own damn bar  _ because your best friend, true to her word, managed to block your every attempt at sneaking in a drink,  _ really fucking sucked.  _

“You don’t need a drink to have a good time!” Wraith kept reminding him. Yet she, drunk, seemed to be having a much better time than he was. No, maybe you didn’t need a drink to have a good time, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

He bided his time. Served drinks, laughed at jokes that weren’t really funny, shot Wraith death glares from across the room, and glanced at the clock every 5 minutes, wondering how early was too early for people to notice his absence if he left. Which was nothing short of ridiculous, by the way. Mirage  _ never  _ left parties early, let alone his own party. Was he really becoming that dependant on alcohol to have a good time? He brushed it off, reasoning that it was just the awkward social pressure of being the only one without a drink in his hand. Or maybe some extreme variant of fomo. Either way, he figured he would stay for another 15, 20 minutes, tops, before making some poor excuse to head back to his room. His favorite movie was playing, or maybe his mom wanted to video chat him. Something like that. Wraith would raise an eyebrow and give him that look that said  _ I know that you know I don’t believe you but I can’t exactly stop you without making a scene so I guess I’ll be dealing with you later.  _ She was really good at talking without actually saying anything. 

That is until Octane walked into his bar.  _ Was he seeing that right? Octane is in his bar? _

He watched the younger man scan the room before setting his gaze on where Elliot was standing behind the counter. He felt his heart flutter. All of a sudden everything just seemed to stop being so terrible all at once, and the thought of leaving early left a hollow feeling in his stomach. He noticed Wraith smirking at him from the corner of his eye, flashing him a thumbs up before disappearing back into the crowd. He groaned, realizing that she probably had something to do with Octane showing up here. As all best friends do, she had a terrible habit of meddling in his personal affairs. Unfortunately, being one of the only people to sit and listen to him complain all the time _ maybe _ gave her a pass for that. He’d worry about that later, however, because Octane was very suddenly right in front of him, smiling. 

“Tavi! Hi. You’re um, you’re here! In my bar.” 

The runner shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. “Well yeah I mean it  _ is  _ a public establishment.”

Mirage giggled.  _ Wait giggled? Did he really just-  _ he cleared his throat. “Right you are, my friend. And this public establishm- etashble- this bar is really happy to see you. And uh, also really sorry.” 

“The entire bar is sorry?” Octane snorted. 

“No  _ I’m  _ sorry. And by extension the bar too since it’s my baby and all. But really, if I said something out of line to you I am really super-”

“No! No you didn’t,” Octane cut in before he could finish. “I guess I’m just… I don’t usually do that kind of thing and I’m... kinda awkward? Actually, yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to avoid you.” 

Elliot flushed red at the words.  _ What kind of thing?  _ “What do you men… exactly.. Did we..?”

“Oh god no! We just slept together- _oh_ _not like that_ slept together! We just slept. Fell asleep. In the same bed.” Octane was blushing now too, which was much more noticeable across his lighter colored features. “And I guess you were pretty drunk. You um. Asked if you could give me a kiss, and I said to wait until you were sober…”

Mirage stared at him a little harder than he meant to, and didn’t notice when Octane glanced away at the floor. He was lost in his mind, snippets of the other night suddenly flooding his memory. His drunk self pulling Tavi under the sheets with him, asking him to stay, promising he’d still want to kiss the younger man when he was sober. Wraith’s actions suddenly made  _ a lot  _ of sense. She wasn’t worried about his alcoholism. (Well maybe slightly). But mainly she was making sure he’d be stone sober when Octane got here, after somehow convincing him to show up in the first place. 

He snapped back to reality. Octane looked at him and opened his mouth to say something but found himself all but yanked across the bar counter by Elliot, who smashed his mouth a little too hard against Octane’s own. 

Octavio squeaked in surprise in the back of his throat, catching his hands on the edge of the bar to stop himself from being completely pulled over. The two of them looked like a scene out of a cheesy 80’s movie. Mirage heard a low wolf whistle emit from somewhere in the crowd and he  _ just fucking knew _ it came from Wraith, though his mind could focus on little else at the moment. He pulled away and grinned at the runner, who looked a little surprised but was smiling back.

“Yeah I remember that… now. I’m so sorry, I totally meant it! I do want to kiss you. Sober. I’m sober now. I haven’t had a single drink tonight!”

Octane laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really! You can ask Renee. She hasn’t let me touch a drop tonight.”

“Well I suppose we owe her a thank you’ Octane quipped. 

Mirage glanced at the wall of alcohol behind them, remembering now when they ran into her at the elevators. “I think the two bottles she took from the top shelf will suffice.” 

“Oh I wasn’t going to say anything…” His eyes sparkled. 

“What you  _ knew?  _ And you didn’t stop her? That’s like, nearly 200 dollars of alcohol!”

He laughed again, putting his hands up in mock defense. “In that case I’m sure she enjoyed it.” 

“Oh my god. Whatever. I guess it’s more than worth it.” He smirked when Octane blushed again, turning around for what felt like the hundredth time that night. “Would you like a glass of… uh…” he squinted, trying to read the label of a foreign bottle of tequila on the top shelf. “Herra- herradura-”

“Herradura Selección Suprema” Octane finished for him. He was all too familiar- a personal favorite of his parents. He shook his head, politely declining. “A little too expensive for my taste.”

“What?” Mirage laughed. “I thought you were some sort of rich kid!”

He shrugged. “I don’t drink very often... anymore.” 

The trickster looked a little surprise, remembering the first night Octane had stopped over when they had stayed up for hours over drinks. He smiled, brushing it aside. 

“Well you don’t need alcohol to have a good time!”  _ Even though about 10 minutes ago I would’ve told you I’d like to drown myself in whisky.  _ “Dance with me?” he offered a hand across the bar, walking around to meet the runner on the other side. Tavi blinked, surprised. 

“W-what?” 

“Dance with me!” he gestured vaguely at the open space that wasn’t really a dance floor but everybody danced there anyways.

“Oh… no. I can’t dance.” 

Elliot shrugged. “Neither can I.” 

“Well- no. I mean, you know that saying, two left feet? I have no feet. Literally. Or… legs.” he gestured downwards at his mechanical replacements. 

“Ah. And yet here you are,  _ standing _ in front of me.” 

Octane scoffed. “You will regret it if you make me dance.”

“I’d bet money that I won’t. Now come on!” Elliot grabbed the smaller man’s wrist and pulled him into the fray of people before he had the chance to argue further.

True to both of their words, neither one of them could dance. They were bad. Like,  _ really  _ bad. The thing was- Mirage’s decoys could dance, and dance well. When he bought his party boat on World’s Edge, he programmed them with several dance moves to encourage people to get up and, well,  _ party _ . So by extension, most people just assumed that Elliot himself could dance. They were very,  _ very  _ wrong. It was actually quite impressive that a pianist of his skill level lacked any semblance of rhythm. Octane, of course, not having actual human legs, was understandably just as terrible. His dancing was basically just a lot of erratic arm movements. Two songs in and they were laughing so hard at each other that Octane had to sit down and Mirage was doubled over, leaning against a table for support. 

“I told you-” the runner started between fits of hysterics- “that you would regret it.”

Mirage laughed even harder. “Are you kidding? I have absolutely zero regrets about this situa- situ- I love this.” 

Octane beamed. “I think you have some fans.” He pointed to a crowd of regulars (and notably some other legends) laughing along with them and aiming their phone cameras in their general direction. 

“Aw shit. Secret’s out. Mirage can’t dance.” He sent out a dancing decoy to distract people, as if they didn’t all just get a video of him flapping around like some sort of deranged turkey attempting to escape Thanksgiving, before walking over and joining Octane sitting at the table. He leaned on his elbows, sighing happily. 

“Okay so I kind of sort of headbutted you earlier.”

The younger man snorted, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, 0 for 2 now.”

“But I swear I’m totally a better kisser than that. A good one even! I’ve got references.”

Octane laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Oh indeed. So…” Elliot trailed off, shooting Octane a very dramatic playful look. “What say you we try that again… again?”

The runner glanced back at the crowd of people, most of which were still watching the two legends, a couple with their phones out waiting to record should they get up and dance again. “First off, did you really just use the phrase “what say you” unironically? And secondly… maybe somewhere a little less… crowded.”

“One- what say you is a perfectly valid phrase. Two- always playing hard to get aren’t ya?” he winked, smirking. “Lucky for you I’m up for a good chase.”

At that Octane snickered. “Is that so? Because I doubt you could catch me.”

“Five bucks says I do.” He stuck his hand out, challenging. Octane grabbed it firmly, eyes twinkling. 

“You’re on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long pause, unfortunately my state opened back up (yes THAT state) so I have to go back to my adult responsibilities. I do have big plans for this story though and will keep updating as I find time. 
> 
> CAN WE ALSO APPRECIATE THAT IN GAME MIRAGE WALKS LIKE A RUNWAY MODEL PLEASE??
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhSMbFfBNmw


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